You should read Chapter 1 of Controlling Cassandra first to understand the context. This is a personal collaboration between on-line friends.
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In the weeks following my 'incident' with Cassandra when she ripped my clothes to shreds I continually did 2 things with alarming frequency. Firstly, I visited the place where she worked so I could see her and chat to her wherever she was in the store, talking about what happened, about clothes, relationships, music and anything that would hold her attention. I also fantasised about her often, whilst frigging my craving pussy and oozing enormous volumes of juice all over my hand, my panties, my bed, my furniture and my car seat. Messy but also very enjoyable.
Eventually our strong but different personalities found some common ground and we agreed to go shopping for something special for Cassey to wear. As a result I found myself waiting outside the store where she worked, impatiently drumming on the steering wheel and willing her Saturday afternoon shift to finish. Finally she strode into view, her slim figure unmistakable, her long legs balanced on very high shoes then continuing seemingly forever upwards until they disappeared under the ultra-high hem of her tiny scarlet pleated lo-rise skirt. I doubt it was more than 25 cm deep, barely covering her cute ass-cheeks and stopping well below her pelvic bone such that her pubic hair would have been clearly visible, except that she doesn't have any. Ever.
Her entire midriff was totally naked. Except that is for a large ornate dangling sparkling and bejewelled decoration attached to the piercing above her immaculate navel, that was easily 8 cm long.
By the time she leaned down to open my car door my eyes had travelled up as far as the outward curve of her small exquisite boobs. They were tantalisingly and barely hidden by an almost-sheer white top that billowed voluminously over and along her arms yet was cut tight and narrow across her upper back like a shrug. It was pulled together and knotted at the front so that her small fleshy mounds could be easily envisaged (if not actually seen) as she bent forward, twisted and flopped into the seat beside me.
"Hi Julie my sweet" she bubbled before planting a long soft kiss on my right cheek yet squeezing my hand very tight, betraying a nervous anticipation simmering below her lively exterior. She looked, felt and smelled gorgeous. She'd obviously freshened up after her shift and more importantly, had found time to apply one of her more ambitious and artistic make-up designs. It exploded in an asymmetric multitude of colours all the way from her left cheek-bone, across the bridge of her gorgeous nose, over and under her right eye all the way to her hair-line above her temple. Fabulous!
I kissed her in return and simultaneously started both the engine and a stream of meaningless, irrelevant small-talk. We drove into the city to a wonderful shop I had recently discovered that I was sure Cassandra would enjoy as it stocked a wide range of the special garment we had agreed I should buy for her. The garment in question was a corset and the shop in question was called "Strictly Forbidden".
I parked the car around the corner and as we had agreed, we pretended not to know each other. Cassey stepped out and strode towards the shop whilst I waited the pre-arranged 10 seconds before following at a discreet distance. I saw my 'stranger' hesitate at the door - I thought she might not go through with our plan β but no, she pushed the large door and stepped inside the 'Strictly Forbidden' store.
When I entered I saw she was already thumbing through the sexy-but-safe lingerie just inside the door. They certainly stock some beautiful stuff and were one of the first Canadian stores to import the luxury Passionella range from England. I moved down the store to the rear to feign interest in the much more risquΓ© 'playwear' and restraints, including latex clothing, cuffs and spreader bars. I smiled when I saw the small half-hidden door marked 'Storeroom β No Entry' with a smaller notice underneath that read 'Customers must be accompanied at all times by a member of staff'.
A member of that staff had now begun talking to Cassey and I moved closer to overhear the conversation:
"What I really came in here to look at was a corset but I'm really not sure what I'm looking for," my friend explained.
The assistant led her luscious and scantily-clad prospective customer over to a bewildering display of restrictive garments in black, white and many luxurious colours that erupted into a mass of lace, straps, ribbons, eyelets and buckles. The assistant made many proposals, holding up corsets, basques and clinchers against her own body and Cassey's but my accomplice rejected every suggestion with ever more implausible objections.
"This might suit you," I suggested, walking over to them and taking down a particularly extreme-looking corset from the rail. It was black, with stiff boning up the front, sides and back, with at least a half a dozen leather straps and buckles down the front and eyelet lacing all the way up the back.
"Er, oh ... thanks, erm, well ..." Cassey mumbled, acting surprised that a total stranger should proffer such advice.
"No, really," I protested, "I'd love to be able to wear one of these but I'm a little too rounded these days to pull it off. But you my dear are so, mmmm, slim."
Cassey looked at the assistant for reinforcement. She smiled and nodded, embarrassed that she had not mentioned it first. Then she scowled at me from under her dark heavy eyebrows and long black fringe. "Try it by all means, but that one will be far too small, even for you. Here, try the next size up."
"Oh, no, I'm sure she'll be able to squeeze into it," I protested, grabbed Cassey's hand and almost pushed her into the changing room.
Miss Severe Hairstyle tried to follow her in whilst blocking my path. "Sorry, but only one customer is allowed in the changing room at ..."
"I'm not a customer, I'm just browsing" I countered sarcastically and forced my way past, slamming and locking the door behind us leaving the Strictly Forbidden employee helplessly protesting outside.
Cassey was breathing quickly. She grabbed me in a full embrace and kissed me wetly, full on the lips, revelling in the excitement and the privacy. She untied the knotted sheer fabric between her boobs and shrugged off her top. To my disappointment she had flesh-coloured pasties over her nipples; at least this explained why they had not been visible though her sheer top - I'd been wondering why Cassey had not been finding our escapade more obviously arousing.
"I don't need them now, you can take them off if you'd like ..." Cassey purred. I needed no further encouragement and carefully peeled them off, revealing a pair of small but deliciously fiery and erect nipples that just begged to be nibbled and sucked.
I restrained myself, but only just.
Cassey then turned her back to me so I could unzip her diminutive skirt. It fell to the floor and I gasped: "You dirty, slutty bitch!" as I realised Cassey was not wearing any panties under her ultra-short skirt. "What would you have done if you'd dropped something in the street and had to bend down to pick it up?"